


From a Solo Point of View

by acuteneurosis



Series: Through the Eyes of the Beholder [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Awkward Conversations, F/M, Force Shenanigans, Gen, Han is Actually Good at Things Offscreen, Skywalker Family Drama, There is not enough alcohol in the world for this, Tiny Terror Leia, Turns Out They're Related, Warning: Contains Skywalker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25906513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acuteneurosis/pseuds/acuteneurosis
Summary: A collection of one-shots, off-screen and post-story moments from For Want of a Skywalker from a smuggler/best friend/not-quite boyfriend point of view. Separated from the main text because Han missed pretty much everything.But that doesn't mean he did nothing.
Relationships: Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Series: Through the Eyes of the Beholder [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671883
Comments: 17
Kudos: 212





	From a Solo Point of View

It had been a trying last few months. Not in the least because of two reckless idiots.

Cloud City had been bad enough, leaving Leia with Chewie to face Vader, another stab from Lando— _Lando_ —when Han’d thought he’d give the guy one last chance. Then it was waking up in Jabba’s palace (never forgot _that_ smell) blind and useless and Leia’d gone, as far as he was concerned, overnight from being in Vader’s clutches to being in Jabba’s and that had been its own special variety of hell.

He still wasn’t sure how they’d made it out of the palace. He’d heard Leia strangle Jabba and Lando had laid down cover fire with Chewie when the riot broke out and they’d made a break for it and…

Okay, he was missing a _lot_ of details, but again, three worst days of his life stacked on top of each other, only technically it’d been months.

And then they’d gotten grabbed by Vader _again_ , and while that wasn’t the worst Imperial interrogation he’d experienced, the moment when they’d cleared the Star Destroyer and hit hyperspace and Lando walked in and said they’d _left Leia_ …

Hell, he still didn’t regret breaking Lando’s nose. A true friend would know they deserved it.

But as Chewie had pointed out, while holding Han back, Leia wouldn’t have left without Luke, and she was convinced the kid was there. So it wasn’t all Lando’s fault.

He’d even been ready to stage another rescue. Only they’d been asked to take a mission, _a real mission_ some general had said and Han had almost broken _his_ nose too, the cheeky bastard, but then Mon had pulled him aside and told him, no nonsense, “It’s another Death Star.”

And he’d known, _known_ , that Leia wouldn’t forgive him if he put her life in front of blowing up that repeat monstrosity.

So he’d dealt with the crazy plan, and the creepy moon, and the weird bitty tree bears that had shown up and starting pelting the Imps with rocks when they realized what was happening (he thought, because they never had any idea what any of those things were _saying_ ), and had survived the panic attack that came after when he realized that they’d missed the Emperor and a significantly larger number of troops being in the area by a matter of just _two days_ (what the hell was up with their intel, anyway). And he’d gotten a loose lead on the _Executor_ and Chewie and Lando were ready to go and then…

Then came the broadcast from Imperial Center.

If that wasn’t a cry for help, Han didn’t know what was.

Didn’t make the troop that was standing in front of them any more attractive though.

“So,” he tried for casual, smiling as he counted and recounted and tried to make the number of troopers smaller. “What can we do for you?”

“We’d appreciate it if you came with us, Captain Solo. Quietly.” The trooper didn’t twitch, but something in his voice was off. And two of the guys behind him _were_ twitching.

“You know, if there’s a problem with the paper work, I’m sure we can work something ou—“

“You _are_ Captain Solo of the _Millennium Falcon_ ,” the trooper checked, and now his hands were shifting on his blaster.

Han held up his hands and the trooper actually took a half step back. “Look, we’re not here to cause any trouble. Just picking up some cargo and—“

“Captain Solo, if you and your companions will please come with us, it will be a lot easier.”

Since when did troopers say please? Chewie had wandered up behind him now and was growling softly. “Easy buddy. Look, we don’t mind taking a walk, but is that really necessary? I’m sure—“

“Our instructions are to bring you in, Captain. You’re wanted at the Imperial residence.”

Well, shit. “You need all of us or is it okay if my copilot stays and loads our cargo?”

“You won’t be leaving today, Captain Solo. Please don’t resist.”

That sounded almost like a whine. Weird. “Yeah, but can Chewie stay—“

“All of you, please. Anyone on board.”

Annnnd they were fucked. Great.

A long (but not nearly long enough) march later, Han was standing in front of Vader, _Emperor_ Vader, listening to that eerie breathing and trying not to pass out from the visceral memories that came with it.

“Your lordliness,” he greeted with a half bow. All the troopers were shifting again but the admiral standing to the right of Vader’s desk just rolled his eyes. Han thought that one looked familiar.

“Captain Solo.” Damn, how did he sound so scary just by saying a name like that? “I trust you were not injured on the way here.”

It was a little tempting to play coy, but suddenly the troopers’ nervousness made a bit more sense, and you didn’t threaten newbies with Vader so, “Nope. Nice place you got though. Any particular reason we’re here?”

It seemed like his Imperialness was about to answer when a small voice asked, “Who that?”

Han had just enough time to take in the sight of a small, dripping, sudsy, naked, one handed kid standing in a doorway before Leia, _Leia_ , materialized behind him griping, “You were supposed to _wait_ for me—“

She spotted them and froze, and Han meant to make a snappy comeback but oh she was safe and beautiful and her hair was frizzing and her sleeves were wet and her eyes were wide open with shock and she was _alright_ and—

“You’re dismissed.” Vader’s voice snapped through the moment and Han heard the troopers file out, but he couldn’t look away from Leia. “Luke, you are supposed to stay _in_ the shower until you are done.”

“I heard it,” the little kid, who was, who couldn’t be, Luke, shrugged as he pointed at Han. “Who—“

“That’s Han,” Leia said, scooping the kid up and pointing. “And Chewie. And that’s Lando.” She glanced at them for a second and Han felt his heart lurch. “They’re our friends.”

“My friends?” Luke asked, pointing at himself and sounding very unsure.

Leia nodded. “Your friends and my friends. Our friends.”

“F’ather friends?”

Oh hell. Oh hell oh hell oh hell, it wasn’t true. That one wasn’t supposed to be true. It couldn’t—

“No,” Vader said, and it actually sounded _gentle_. “Captain Solo and I are not friends.”

Well, at least he had that much right. Still, Luke asked, “You be friends t’morrow?”

Obscene. That’s what this was. Absolutely obscene. “Probably not tomorrow,” Vader said, and if he hadn’t been so shocked Han would have added not _ever_. “Admiral, if you can take Luke back—“

“I’ve got him,” Leia cut in. “I’m almost finished. We’ll be out once we’re done.”

“I would be happy to assist,” the admiral said, taking a step forward.

But Leia was already half gone. “It’s fine. Just make sure he doesn’t eat our friends.”

“I don’t eat people,” if it had been anyone else Han would have said Vader’d just shuffled and _whined._ “I don’t eat anything.”

The faint sound of water running was the only answer. After a few moments, the admiral half whispered, “Sir, if you’d like to sit down—“

“I’m _fine_ ,” Vader was obviously unhappy. “I can stand.”

“Should you?” The admiral was still trying to be quiet, but it wasn’t like there was anything else in the room to listen too. Well, maybe the giggling from wherever Leia and Luke had disappeared to.

Vader shuffled again and moved some things around on the desk. Han tried pinching his hand behind his back to see if he would wake up. No one said anything and the admiral rolled his eyes again, but just stood at attention.

The silence was getting painful enough Han was going to say something, damned if it killed him, when there was a series of crashes from the other room and a high pitched shriek.

“No!” It was half muffled but that was _not_ Leia, it was definitely _Luke_ …

And maybe the sound of water just got louder?

The admiral was suddenly at Han’s elbow, a stack of clothes in his hands as he approached the doorway, and maybe this was starting to creep Han out a little bit? It didn’t help when Luke popped his dripping head around the doorframe, started, “Could I get—“ and then smiled when the admiral was already standing there and took the clothes with a quick, “Thanks, I’ll be right— Leia!”

And he disappeared again.

“Wha—“ Han tried to form words and the admiral just watched him, a way too calm expression on his face.

“They switch,” he explained as he walked back. “From time to time.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding.”

But he wasn’t, because the next thing Han knew when he looked back to check the doorway there was a tiny form in a huge, fluffy white towel, staring up at him with a scowl that was so familiar on such a completely wrong face he lost track of time for a moment.

She was just… standing there, the towel pulled up over her head so her face was barely peeking out, her toes poking out at the bottom, hands hidden and clutching the edges together, a train of white splayed out behind her. Just… staring. At him.

And staring.

And staring.

He actually jumped back when she started floating, oh hell she was walking but it looked _super weird_ , slinking towards him, still staring up at his face, gliding over until her toes where touching his boots…

And then her scowl got _worse_ and she turned and slinked over and around the back of the desk and Han heard a little thump, almost sounded like she had jumped or something, and then Vader was reaching down and picked her up and _put her on the desk_.

And could this moment get any worse?

He was going to say something, he really was, but then she shuffled over, towel still wrapped tight and sliding across the desk behind her, and she was right up against the edge. Vader was holding out a hand, almost as if to catch her, as she leaned forward, staring into Han’s eyes again. What was wrong with this kid?

A few more moments of that, and Han was twitchy because Vader was there, not because some kid was staring at him, and the little princess huffed, turned around, slunk back to Vader, and jumped again.

When he only responded with a, “Princess, what—“ she actually jumped off the table and there was what Han could only describe as a half yelp from behind that death mask as Vader caught her.

Through a series of chin thrusts and pointing with her toes, Leia was placed on the psycho’s shoulder and she returned to her staring as Vader came from behind the desk to get _right in Han’s face, oh shit!_

And she just leaned in and stared.

And stared.

And stared.

And stared.

“What _are_ you doing?” the kid was finally back, rolling up a sleeve on the arm with the missing hand, and when had _that_ happened?

As though it was supposed to make sense, Vader answered, “She wanted to be over here.”

“You’re scaring Han,” Luke reached out and Leia scooted off Vader’s shoulder into the kid’s arm.

That comment demanded protest, “Hey, I am not scared of little kids.”

Luke’s smile threw the lies in those words back in Han’s face, but it was so damn good to just see it again, Han was willing to let that go. “Sure you’re not.”

The banter would have been fun, but he’d just spent ten minutes in the same room as the guy who’d had him carbon frozen, and Han was done being patient. “So what exactly are we doing here?”

He left the, “With this deranged psycho,” part unsaid, but he was pretty sure the kid got it.

The smile disappeared for a second, Luke looking to Vader of all people as he shuffled the tiny Leia monster with his one good arm, but didn’t say anything. He made a bunch of faces, but there were no words.

Oh great, now he was psychic too?

“I would still prefer if we didn’t tell him,” Vader rumbled, and Han did jump back, just a hair, at the words coming from nowhere. “But I cannot technically prevent you.”

“No,” Luke agreed, smiling again, and damn the kids was ballsy. “You can’t. Han, Leia and I are twins.”

…

…….

……….

……………….

* * *

“I did not faint!” Han growled, burying his face in his hands, which were bouncing because they were on his knees and those just couldn’t stay still. “I _may_ have temporarily blacked out while standing. There was no fainting involved.”

Lando’s sniggering and Chewie’s wuffs were almost as bad as the slight coughing coming from Vader. But that was definitely the worst.

But not weirder than little Leia perched on the arm of the couch, now wearing actual clothes now and messing around with Luke’s hair. Theoretically she was trying to braid it, Han thought. Maybe. He wasn’t really sure she understood what a braid was, never mind being able to make one.

“Drink, Captain?” unflappable Admiral was quickly becoming Han’s best friend in this mess. And wasn’t that an all time low?

“You got whiskey?”

And now even this guy was smiling (at least for half a second there) and Han knew he was in for it as the admiral walked away. But if he could get half a glass he might be able to make his way through this, so…

“Here you are, Captain.”

Taking the glass and sniffing was probably rude, but this day was weird enough and it was _not_ paranoid to make sure there weren’t any funny smells before he drank. “Think it’ll take the edge off?” Han asked without much hope.

“One to take the edge off, two to really make it bearable. You’ll need more than four to actually make you forget for a whole minute though, I’m afraid.”

That was the practical voice of experience and Han decided it was safer not to ask. He just downed the glass in a gulp and hoped he wouldn’t regret that in the next few minutes. “Think I’ll stick to one. Need my wits about me for this group.”

“Oh you definitely do,” the admiral muttered as he took the glass back. He hadn’t recapped the bottle he’d poured from though.

“Okay,” Han said, able to give Luke his full attention now. “You. Leia. Twins. What else am I missing?”

Shuffling a bit (which earned a squeak and a fwap from the tiny princess, which had to be dealt with) Luke said, “What do you know about gifts in the desert?”

Oh no. Not more of this mystical nonsense. Han was still working on accepting “The Force.” “Next to nothing. Why?”

Apparently, the kid thought the desert was magic. And had done this.

“Another, Captain?” Damn, the admiral had caught him looking at the bottle.

“Nah, I’m good. Weird magic shrinking isn’t the worst thing I’ve heard today.”

“I’d like one,” Lando said, and yeah he did look a bit unsettled. “If you don’t mind.”

The admiral frowned. “My apologies, I’ll need to get another glass.”

“I can use Han’s,” Lando smiled. “Won’t be the first time we’ve shared.”

And now the admiral _and_ Luke were giving Han a _look_ and he wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be stupid and start sharing those stories.

They weren’t appropriate for children.

Or Leia.

Especially not Leia.

As Lando got handed a glass, Han managed to ask, “So this whole thing about you being Vader’s kid…”

“Completely true,” Luke said, and he could look as apologetic as he wanted, that did not make it more comforting. “Although I didn’t know until Bespin. And couldn’t remember when I got shrunk.”

“And you just went with him?” Han was… well shocked, but the kind of extra shocked you are when a small child _voluntarily_ approaches _Darth Vader_. “Like that?”

Another shrug from the kid. “It was that or the Hutts.”

Okay, yeah, that wasn’t much of a choice. Technically. Imperials gave you water. Usually.

“So now what?”

“Now, my father’s the emperor. Running the whole galaxy.”

“And you’re what, his princely heir?”

It was the admiral who stuck in, “Technically, you are addressing His Royal Highness, Prince Luke Skywalker, first heir to the Imperial Throne and inheritor of half the galaxy.”

“Half?” Han blinked.

“Leia gets the prettier half,” Luke said, and Vader made some weird noise. “It’s only fair that way.”

“She better not hear you say that,” Lando said, taking a sip of his drink. “She would not appreciate it.”

There was a flash of terror from the kid as he glanced over his shoulder. Leia was still twisting bits of his damp hair into knots and didn’t look like she was listening. “Yeah, probably not,” he agreed.

“So you’re inheriting half of the galaxy,” Han sighed, leaning back against the couch and just staring. “Damn kid, where the hell do you get your luck?”

“His mother,” Vader said, at the same time the admiral said, “His father.”

Which meant all eyes were on the admiral now, thank goodness.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Vader asked, sounding almost offended and half curious.

The admiral actually looked flustered. “I only meant. Well, there are all those stories, your Excellency. From when you were a general.”

“A what?” Han asked, confused. He was pretty sure the behemoth had always been Lord Vader, whatever that meant.

“A general,” the admiral had an excellent down the nose look. “During the Clone Wars. General Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.”

Oh right, Luke’s dad was—

Every childhood story about Anakin Skywalker zipped through Han’s mind at light speed, bouncing off of memories of every dangerous stunt Luke (or Leia) had ever pulled and gotten away with.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Han yanked the drink out of Lando’s hand and tossed back the rest of it, pointing to the—the Skywalker spawn with his hand full. “They don’t put warning labels on those things?”

Luke laughed, knocking Leia off the couch and the admiral only just caught her. But to do that, he spilled the rest of the whiskey.

Damn, Han had needed that.


End file.
